June 1942 School Magazine

Brisbane Girls' Grammar School Magazine

June. 1942

.June• . l.S42

Brisbane Girls' Grammar School Magazine

and there it would widen out into a small lake, shining like silver sheen in the sunlight. Flashes of colour, against the background of green, denoted the presence of gaily-coloured parrots, winging their way from tree to tree. On one side of the valley a waterfall could be seen springing and carolling down to the placid stream below. . Occasionally a distant crash resounded through the still air, as some stately pine, stripped of its glory, was felled to the ground, to be sent by train or river to the sawmills. But above all these definite noises could be heard the incessant murmur of the bush creatures and birds. The screech of a cockatoo, the croak of a frog, the chirp of a thousand crickets and the songs of many birds-aU these swelled into one great murmur, which was caught in the breeze and flung to the four winds of heaven. Gradually the shadows of evening were gathering and as I lingered, meditating in this lovely place, I thought to myself that, if we prevent our beautiful country from being invaded by outsiders who do not know the meaning of beauty, we shall not have fought in vain. -Peggy Argo, IV.E.

IV.D. CLASS ROOM. Only the scratching of pens as they move across the paper disturbs the silence in IV.D. class-room as each girl endea- vours to work out some complicated problem. But hark! What is that? The gentle sound of falling water breaks upon this peaceful atmosphere. Surely it is not raining? Oh, no! · The sun is high in the heavens. There is only one answer then- the taps in the cloak-room adjoining the library have not been turned off properly! Again we settle down to monotonous silence after this irrita - tion has been attended to. Suddenly a violent vibration occurs under our floor- the tap in the kitchen has been turn- ed on. After a few moments this ceases and we continue once more with our work. We are all very fond of our room and you will have noticed that if the rule of silence had not been observed in our form these trivial noises would not have wor- ried us! May we take this opportunity to apologize to the School for the frequent absence of flowers from our room. It is not that we are bad gardeners. Oh! no, on the contrary, but we are doing our little bit to help the war and so most of us have turn- ed our flower beds into flourishing vegetable gardens. After much contemplation we decided that bareness would be pre- ferred to cabbages, carrots and cauliflowers displayed about the room. On behalf of IV.D. by Helen Little. As I topped the last crest of the mountain, I looked down- wards and beheld the dark green verdure below me, contrast- ing sharply with the azure blue of a summer sky. A slight breeze ruffled the tree tops and tints of silver flash- ed in the sunlight as the leaves were caught by the rays of the sun. But at the bottom of the valley all was dark and still; no sunlight penetrated into its gloomy depths, and no breath of wind stirred the tall trees. On the slopes of the valley, many bare patches gave evidence of the numerous forest fires which had eaten their way into those great leviathans of the jungle, leaving in their wake ruin and devastation. In one sense, however, these fires came as a blessing; the land was cleared, farms were estab- lished and crops were grown on the burnt ground. Far down below could be seen the silver ribbon of a stream twisting its tortuous way through the trees and gorges. Here 32 --~~-- A VALLEY FROM A MOUNTAIN TOP.

JACQUELINE CRAIG, IV.B.

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